Smiles Gift: And the Writing

"Now, my boy, let us hear an account of your trip. Did you enjoy it, and
find anything of especial interest in the mountains of the feud
country?"

The doctor's father lighted his after-dinner cigar, and leaned back with
the indolent satisfaction which a man ripe in useful years may feel when
surrounded by his family. Since the death of his wife, he and his
children had been more inseparably attached one to another than ever,
and each drew a full measure of happiness from these all-too-infrequent
reunions, when Donald could be with them. Even little Muriel was not
left out of the group, for she had been granted the exceptional
privilege of sitting up an extra hour, and listening to the wonderful
hunting tales told by her beloved Uncle Don, upon whose lap she was now
contentedly curled. Her mother and father sat near by.

"Yes, to both questions," responded Donald.

"Did you shoot any bears?" queried his little niece, expectantly.

"No bears this trip, although I almost scalded to death a bare-legged
little girl," was the reply. And with Rose thus made the central figure
of his recital at the very outset, Donald proceeded to tell of his
experiences and new friendships; but consciously refrained from
mentioning the unpleasant incident with which his trip ended, and
Smiles' parting embrace.

His faithful reproduction of the soft mountain dialect brought frequent
smiles from his listeners, and filled the child with delighted
amusement.